Suede
by WyldeGod
Summary: X5-682 had been released for his first solo mission. While out in the world, an Eyes Only broadcast changes everything he ever believed in.
1. Default Chapter

This is a story about an original character of mine named Suede. Suede is an X5 assassin. He is proud and strong and like all X5's he's searching not for his next victim. He's searching for himself. As with all the children of Manticore, he wants a place in the world. He just doesn't know where to look for it.  
  
Suede's Story  
  
I am not the Team.  
  
"Good morning Mr. Sanazi," The secretary said. "How are you today?"  
  
"I'm fine Cassidy. How about yourself?" The tall man said. He smiled down to the girl, his teeth bright and gleaming within the dark border of his very dark skin.  
  
"I'm doing well, thanks for asking. Mr. Devy would like to speak to you before lunch about the Dalton Genetics situation." Cassidy said, offering a sympathetic smile. "He said it wasn't extremely urgent but he's playing nine holes after lunch with Mr. Dalton and wants to run over a few things."  
  
"Thanks, Cassidy. Give him a call and tell him I'll be there in about twenty minutes. I'm going to check my e-mail and get settled in before I head up there." The giant Nubian winked and headed into his office. "Hold my calls for now. Thanks," he said as he closed the door to his office.  
  
He walked over to the big oak desk. He was going to miss this place. Three more weeks and he would have to give up this desk and corner office for a small cubicle in the barracks back in Manticore. Three more weeks and he would finish his assignment and become just a number again.  
  
The eight months spent in setting up the hit was more than enough time, but he had milked it for all it was worth. Listening to 822 and 494 discuss the outside in almost happy terms had left him with more than a little jealousy about getting out. It wasn't that he hadn't been out, he had. He had never been in Deep Cover alone though, always military engagements in some weird country where he was required more often than not to exterminate teenage rebels or poorly trained terrorist cells.  
  
The deep cover missions were the cream of the crop and once Sandoval sent you out on a DC Op, you never had to look back. It was just the way of things. Only the best got the solo missions. 822 had been on five solos. 494 went out on three, but something twisted him on the last one and they jammed him up in psy-ops for no good reason that anyone who knew him could figure.  
  
When he came out, there was something different about him. Something dark and dangerous had taken over. He no longer cared about anything. 494 had grown cold and distant. Manticore liked that in its operatives.  
  
Now, though the mission was winding down and Abuti Sanazi would simply cease to be in about ten days, two weeks at the most. The two men he was sent after were coming together. Today, they were going to discuss business and share their first round of golf. It was time to report.  
  
"No Calls," he heard Cassidy say as he closed the door with a wink to the young secretary. She smiled and waved. He would miss her most of all. The door to his office clicked shut and he latched the lock just to be safe. Turning to his desk, he pulled out his laptop, setting it on the desk as he walked toward the window. He pulled a small electronic satellite dish out of his briefcase and aimed it into the southern sky.  
  
Returning to his desk, he sat down and opened his laptop. The screen lit up a few seconds later revealing Sandoval's stone face staring at him. "You're late X5-682." Sandoval said. "Report is five minutes overdue. Explain."  
  
"Can't help extra moments with my secretary and a longer than usual list of contacts for the day. I have a meeting with Mr. Devy in fifteen minutes and will most likely be invited to their golf game today. I will study Mr. Dalton and report tonight on what I learn."  
  
"Do your meeting with Mr. Devy but decline his invitation to play golf. We have learned that Mr. Dalton will be meeting in private with Angelo Devy tonight in his office, in your building. The meeting will take place after the golf game at approximately 7:30 this evening. You will meet them in the hall. Make sure they enter the offices alone then find an alternate entrance. Once you have secured another entrance, then you will terminate both men and meet at these coordinates at midnight for retrieval."  
  
"This is sudden." 682 said. "May I ask.?"  
  
"No you may not." Sandoval snapped. "You have your orders. Carry them out and proceed to the rendezvous." Sandoval stared into the camera, looking just past X5-682 head. "Session is logged. Carry on." Sandoval said to no one in particular.  
  
Abuti Sanazi, actually X5-682, a child of Manticore was stunned; he closed his laptop, absentmindedly walking over to the window to retrieve the small, portable satellite unit. He pulled it from its position and walked over to his desk. His first assignment, his first solo assignment had come to a close. He looked down to the floor for a minute before turning to the mirrored door to his private restroom. He looked at himself, from his clean shaven head down over the dark glow of his face to the expensive suit he may never wear again. Even his shoes had that liveliness about them that couldn't be found in Manticore barracks or cells. He liked being Abuti Sanazi. He liked being something other than what he was.  
  
"I am." he started to say, but the truth was simple. He didn't know what he was. He knew what he had been. He had been a child, born and raised to kill or be killed. An assassin trained without emotion or concern for anything but the mission. For a long time, for a very long time, he was just that.  
  
He remembered the words he had heard in a movie he had watched that night six months ago when his 'friends' had that bachelor party and invited him. It was an old classic from way, way back in the day; a Vietnam War epic about man's struggle with himself over what it means to be a man. The words screamed in his mind now, repeating themselves over and over again.  
  
"I wanted a mission. for my sins they gave me one, and when it was over, I'd never want another."  
  
The words echoed as he stared into the mirror. He thought about Captain Bill and how that character mirrored his own heart of darkness. What would become of him when he went back to Manticore? What would he be? How would he feel when he got back to the little 10 x 12 cell that all field ops got after their first mission? Sure, it would mean he'd get his own command, complete with a squad of his own or maybe he'd be picked for future missions, but what would it really mean?  
  
It would mean he'd be isolated. He'd sit at the table alone during meals waiting for other returned solos to join him. He'd get privileges that others didn't have, but they weren't privileges he wanted. He wanted this suit. He wanted this office.  
  
These shoes.  
  
The broken city of Seattle he was assigned to.  
  
BEEEEEEPPPPPP!!!!!  
  
The sound startled him. He spun ready to attack the nearest person, but quickly realized that he was alone in the room. Suddenly thankful that he had locked the door, he realized that it was Cassidy. He walked over to the desk and pressed the button.  
  
"Yes Cassidy," he said.  
  
"Mr. Devy is here to see you." Cassidy announced.  
  
"I'll be one minute." X5-682 responded, once again becoming Abuti Sanazi as he shoved the portable satellite relay into a drawer and closed his laptop. He pulled off his sport coat and tossed it over the back of his chair as he walked over and unlocked the door to his office quietly. Pulling the door wide, he smiled his best smile and looked into the eyes of the CEO of his company.  
  
"Mr. Sanazi," Angelo Devi smiled, holding out his hand to shake the dark man's hand. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in playing a round of golf with me this afternoon."  
  
"I'm afraid I cannot. I've received a bit of disturbing information just now and I have to go down to San Francisco. My. mother," he said the word roughly. "She's been rushed to the hospital." He lied.  
  
"I'm very sorry to hear that." Angelo Devi said pulling his hand away from Sanazi's. "I hope everything turns out well."  
  
"I'm sure it will, but I'm afraid I have to go now. Cassidy, would you please reschedule my appointments. I'll call you when I get to Frisco and let you know my schedule after I arrive. Mr. Devi."  
  
"Please, call me Angelo." The CEO said.  
  
"Thank you. Angelo. I'm very sorry."  
  
"Family emergencies take priority in my life as well. Hell, if my wife didn't have an emergency at least twice a week I might actually believe something bad had happened to her." Devi laughed. The man that would for a few more minutes be Abuti Sanazi laughed with him.  
  
"If you'll excuse me, I must be going."  
  
"Of course," Devi watched the tall man head out the door of his office and turn down the hall. He turned back to Cassidy before leaving. "See to it he gets whatever he needs when he contacts you later. and send something appropriate to the hospital when you find out where she is."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Devi."  
  
X5-682 looked down at the tools on his bed. There wasn't much there. He was wearing a deep brown pair of loose fitting pants and a black shirt underneath his vest. A line of razor sharp knives were strapped to the front of his vest on either side and he held a small pistol in his hand. He stared at the H & K as it caught the faintest reflection of his eye in the darkened room. Almost silently, he shoved the clip in and breathed out as it locked into place.  
  
"Just like breathing." He sighed. That was the kicker. Mission mode had kicked in. He was full of the intensity he knew only as a child of Manticore. A genetically engineered soldier.  
  
An assassin.  
  
A killer.  
  
With that final, devastating thought, knowing he would be returning to Manticore tonight, he took one last glance about the sparsely decorated room. There wasn't much there. He wouldn't be giving up much. He knew Manticore would come and remove any trace that he had ever been here. He knew his existence would be forgotten. The only thing he truly regretted was the contact with other people.  
  
He had seen it on the face of 494, heard it in the words of 822 sitting at the lonely table in the mess hall where the officers and solos sat. They had understood something he was only now beginning to see. He didn't understand it yet, but he was beginning to. It was becoming clear at a frightening pace.  
  
He was just like the knives on his vest. He was the gun in his hand.  
  
Just a tool.  
  
The hall was dark, and silent. X5-682 moved quietly through the shadows avoiding the arc of the security cameras. He could have walked through the front door. He could have come up to his office on the elevator and walked down the hall on his floor without questions but he had been wearing a suit lately. He was out of practice.  
  
He stood underneath the main hall camera slowly shifting from one hall to the next. He counted the seconds in the arc, watching closely to everything around him.  
  
Fourteen seconds would be more than enough time for him to get to and then into the maintenance room. From there it would be a short, silent crawl through the vent toward the main office. 682 watched the slowly moving camera arc away from the hall to the one he had just come from.  
  
Fourteen.  
  
Thirteen.  
  
Twelve.  
  
Eleven.  
  
He reached the maintenance room. A few quick flicks of his wrist with the lock pick tools and he hears the pins inside the lock slip into place. Still counting the last few seconds, he slips into the room and closes the door just as the camera reaches this hall.  
  
Turning to the small room, he finds the ceiling access panel waiting for him. It gives easily and he pulled himself up into the ventilation system. His direction is to the right, then take the first left and he will be right over the room with the two men he has been ordered to kill.  
  
The movement is simple. His days were spent working. His evenings spent training. It takes no effort for him to move quietly, efficiently through the vents and into position over the roof.  
  
He scans the room below him. Two men sit on a couch. Two young girls, no more than twenty, are standing in front of the two men, moving slowly to music barely audible from the stereo on the wall. The TV is running the latest political and financial news, also barely audible. The men are laughing. The girls are mostly naked, but still wearing heels, touching and feeling and moving. They are lost in each other, a conditioned reflex to make the event more acceptable. 682 shakes his head, reaching for the grate.  
  
A weird hiss, followed by a crackle and some slight popping reaches his ears. He follows the sound as time seems to slow down. His head hears everything outside of the television as if in a long tunnel. The crackling and popping continue and he finally remembers what it is.  
  
A broadcast.  
  
It's a satellite hack from Seattle's very own, resident cyber- journalist. X5-682 smiles, remembering when he heard his first hack. It had taken him by surprise. The restaurant where he had been interviewing for the position fell into an eerie silence as all eyes turned toward the TV on the wall to watch the words.  
  
Now the words shouldn't mean anything to him. He was still reaching for the grate on the vent, still hearing everything from far away. His mind was trying to focus on the event he had come here for. It would not succeed.  
  
"Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a streaming freedom cable hack of the Eyes Only Informant Net. This hack cannot be traced. It will not be stopped and it is the only free voice left in this city." The disembodied voice of deeply shadowed eyes called out the familiar introduction. X5-682 gripped the wire grate panel of the vent in his fingers and waited.  
  
"This hack is being beamed across America to those known as X5. You have been compromised. You're in danger. You know what to do." the altered voice said. The voice spoke words from that place where the eyes existed, staring into X5-682, speaking directly to him. A phone rings somewhere in the room. Roger Dalton answers it.  
  
"I repeat to those known as X5. Your locations have been compromised. You are in danger. You know what to do." Eyes Only repeated the words. "This hack will repeat every hour on the hour until all of you have reported in. This has been a streaming freedom cable hack of the Eyes Only Informant Net. Peace. Out."  
  
"It's security. There is a man downstairs named Ames White. He says he's from the NSA and that a contract has been placed on my life. The assassin is in the building."  
  
"WHAT?" Angelo Devi asked, startled?  
  
"Security is on the way up with a picture of him. It's Sanazi." Dalton says.  
  
"That can't be." Devi started, but was interrupted by a sound from the vent. Both men looked up to the panel. The girls screamed and ran from the room.  
  
"Who's there?" Dalton demanded. Security burst into the room and Devi pointed to the vent.  
  
"UP THERE!" Devi shouted. "SANAZI! YOU CAN'T GET OUT OF HERE!"  
  
"THE NSA HAS THE BUILDING SURROUNDED!" Dalton shouted.  
  
Security guards warily removed the panel and checked the dark, smooth ductwork with their weapons and flashlights. There was nothing there.  
  
Downstairs, two minutes later, X5-682 was setting the body of an NSA agent on the floor and checking the main hall of the building. There were eight agents standing around. Some were waiting for elevators to open with weapons drawn. Some were waiting with phones in hand for reports from each floor.  
  
The former Mr. Abuti Sanazi located the director of the operation. He was a short man with a hard edgy look to his face. He was on the phone talking to Roger Dalton and assuring him that his team had been tracking the assassin for a couple of weeks.  
  
682 understood why the operation had been rushed at this point. It was irrelevant to him now. The question on his mind was Eyes Only. How did Eyes Only find out about the operation? He had heard the rumors about the man and his operatives. Everyone heard rumors about Eyes Only, but that's all they were. They were just rumors.  
  
Now however those rumors seemed just a little bit more than that. Now those very rumors had become something more than rumor. They had become a fact. The dark eyes with the disembodied voice did indeed see everything.  
  
A break in surveillance presented itself and 682 phased through a shadow, heading for the side exit of the building. There would be guards, but nothing he couldn't handle. He stepped out of the door. The street was busy. Police flashers illuminated the evening in a revolving, strangely purple-ish haze.  
  
Two guards stood outside the door. They were watching three cops harassing the dancing girls from upstairs. They were laughing. He walked up behind the two NSA guards, snapping a neck in each hand and disappearing into the night.  
  
Three hours later, he was standing on the roof across the street from the downtown apartment Devi's company had supplied for him when he first 'moved' to Seattle. The apartment wasn't a big one or a fancy one like that Fogle Towers he had visited once for a party held by one of the companies VPs, but it was his home. It wasn't permanent and he had long ago accepted that. Now, though, he stood watching NSA agents, and Ames White, the short guy seriously lacking anything resembling a personality, currently held a pair of his underwear up with a pencil.  
  
682 laughed. After all that had happened in the last few hours, he couldn't help laughing. He would miss those silk boxers. They had been a birthday gift from his secretary Cassidy on the day she believed to be his birthday. Even though he didn't know his birthday, it had been the ONLY time anyone had ever given him anything. They had meant a lot to him.  
  
He turned and headed across the rooftop in the shadow of Fogle towers, jumping from one roof to another before going down to ground level and crossing the mostly deserted street away from his former residence. An Aztek screeched out of the underground parking garage below him heading directly toward his position. He hurried across the street, catching a glimpse of a man and a woman in the front seat of the blue on blue vehicle. They looked perfect together. A handsome man and a beautiful woman heading off to whatever adventure awaited them struck him suddenly and he suddenly felt a loss within himself.  
  
It was as if something was missing in his life. Something he couldn't even begin to understand. He watched the Aztec run a red light and turn on a far corner heading away from his view. He checked his watch marking the slightly less than two hours to his contact.  
  
Procedure in a compromise was simple. He was required to report in. It would be a one sided conversation and then he would be contacted within 72 hours and given orders. It was that simple. He would make his report in approximately two hours and then he'd have three days completely to himself.  
  
When his phone rang, he was startled. He quickly turned the ringer off and ducked into the nearest alley, staring at the phone. It rang ten times before he answered it. It would be Manticore. It would be Sandoval.  
  
"Report," Sandoval said when 682 answered.  
  
"X5-682, AYE!" He said. "The mission was compromised. Eyes Only broadcast just seconds before the target received a phone call from an NSA agent named Ames White." He started his report, but Sandoval interrupted.  
  
"Why did you not complete the mission?"  
  
"The mission was compromised, Sir." The X5 said. "I was prepared to enter the office with the two men as soon as the women left. They were entertaining the men, but the hack interrupted them and within a minute security came through the door of the office. I had no choice. I would have been in the room and captured if Eyes Only hadn't made the hack. I fully intend to redeploy."  
  
"You will await further instructions." Sandoval said. "Follow procedure to the letter and you will be contacted in 72 hours with instructions. Session is logged. Carry on. Sandoval out."  
  
X5-682 slid to the ground against the wall behind him, pulling his knees up to his chest. It was a dark alley and he was a darker man. It was as good a time as any to catch some sleep, collect his thoughts and figure out how to proceed.  
  
There were a lot of questions running through his mind and he let each of them drift away in their time until only a few remained.  
  
How did Eyes Only know to warn him? Why did Sandoval break procedure and contact him? How did an NSA agent know about a Manticore assassin?  
  
There was one question on his mind that he couldn't even begin to understand. Of all of the thoughts running through his mind this was the strangest and most difficult for him to accept. It didn't register that Eyes Only had warned the assassin and not the target. He didn't really care about that short guy. He had accepted a long time ago that Sandoval was a creepy, little man himself.  
  
No. The big question on his mind, the one causing him the most trouble and making this whole situation hard for him to deal with was more confusing than anything he had ever endured.  
  
What would Cassidy think of him when she found out that he was an assassin? 


	2. Chapter two

Suede's Story  
  
Walking the Line  
  
'72 hours,' he thought. 'What the hell am I going to do for 72 hours?' He walked across the commons behind Fogle Towers wondering what his return to Manticore would be. How would they welcome him when he returned to the base?  
  
Would they actually welcome him? Would the send him down to Psy-ops for some reconditioning? What was the procedure there? 494 returned from a mission and had been locked up in psy-ops for months. He knew what psy- ops was like, he had heard the rumors. Every X5 knew. They had all been sent there at one time. After the Rogues had escaped, all the children that were left had been taken down there and locked in cells, undergoing strange rituals with stranger individuals.  
  
"State your designation!"  
  
"X5-682!" he shouted.  
  
"That is your designation given by command. State your designation."  
  
"X5-682!" he shouted.  
  
"That is your designation given by command. State YOUR designation!" She said. He stared at her this time. Her eyes were jiggling, or maybe his eyes were jiggling. He didn't know.  
  
"My designation is X5-682!" he stared back defiantly. Her eyes twitched and she raised an eyebrow. He looked at her. "My name is Tim."  
  
"Thank you, Tim." She said. "It doesn't suit you."  
  
"What doesn't suit me?" He asked.  
  
"The name," She smiled. "You will have to pick a better one some day. A name that suits your ancestry and gives you power over others." She was still smiling. Her eyebrow was still raised. His mind was fuzzy and he couldn't tell if his eyes were jiggling, or maybe. the world was spinning?  
  
He remembered everything that happened to him in there. It started out with curious questions and kind, motherly thoughts but quickly devolved into a search and destroy within his mind. He was bombarded by thoughts that were not his own, designed to make him forget things he had learned on his own. The emptiness was filled at nights by propaganda reels that ran constantly while he waited for people to come and retrieve him. He listened to the noise when they fed him. He listened to the noise while he slept.  
  
It was a dark day when he left the corridors below the main compound. He felt renewed. He was interested in working hard at his duties. He pushed himself to places he never knew he could go. He pushed himself in everything he did after that. He had been conditioned. The officers and drill instructors had called them simplified. He knew what simplified meant, but he didn't understand how it applied to him.  
  
He had been given a new mission. He had been left with a directive to either do or die. He had chosen not to die. It wasn't an option for him. Every waking moment was spent in one of two ways. Either he trained in their techniques and studied their propaganda or he trained and studied those techniques on his own time.  
  
When he got the call and was released for his first mission into enemy conflict overseas, he performed remarkably well. Of course, they sent him to take out a terrorist cell comprised mainly of teenagers and old men, fighting for something they believed in, but they were terrorists. They stood for everything that the world didn't and for that, they had to be removed.  
  
He removed them. 47 confirmed kills.  
  
"You've done well." Sandoval said. "You are relieved from training today. Rest up. Relax. You've earned a day without exercises. A special meal will be delivered promptly at 6PM." Sandoval turned and left. X5-682 commenced training on his own within minutes of Sandoval leaving the barracks.  
  
That's what they had been trained to do. When in doubt kill and if no one was around then train to kill. Right now, as he walked the streets of Seattle, he realized that he should be hiding. He should be stalking the shadows, stealing what food and supplies he needed to survive, but instead he was standing in the center of the commons area, deep in the midnight shadow of Fogle Towers.  
  
Slowly, he pulled the vest he was wearing off as if peeling back a layer of his skin. He winced as he dropped it to the ground near his feet. He didn't need the standard issue blades anymore. He pulled his weapon and dropped it on top of the Kevlar vest before he started walking again. He didn't look back as he crossed the street on the far side of the commons heading into the alleys again, looking this time to find some rooftop access where he might feel more comfortable.  
  
He didn't notice the hoverdrone coming into the area as he was leaving it. The drone found his gear within minutes. Sector cops retrieved it a few moments later. No one would know X5-682 had ever been there. They would find his stuff. They would have no explanation for it.  
  
It didn't take him long to find his way back to his place again. He knew the short guy White would still be there. He crouched low as he walked toward the edge of the building. Searches of the area had turned up nothing because he had left the area. It was obvious to his trained eye that what was going on now was the mop up operation. Men were moving out, taking what little they could find.  
  
Neighbors he had hardly spoken too were offering information. Lies mostly, were being traded for small rewards. He watched from the rooftop several floors below as the NSA agent named White stood quietly, listening to the dark haired Italian questioning the men and women in front of him. They knew nothing. White would get no good information from them and by the look on his face, he knew this. 682 watched the short agent followed the conversation for a few more minutes before walking over to the large black paddy wagon sitting near the head of the line.  
  
White glanced over his shoulder one last time before he reached for the handle and opened the door. It was as if a tidal force hit 682 in the chest when he focused on the sounds coming from inside.  
  
"Please," A woman said. "I don't know anything. I was just his secretary."  
  
"Then why did you rush over here tonight?" A man demanded. "Why did you come here to see him then?"  
  
"I told you before. I live near here. I couldn't believe that Mr. Sanazi was an assassin. He was a nice man."  
  
"So you thought you'd come and warn him." The voice of his former secretary silenced with the closing of the door. X5-682 stared at the van for a while. He didn't know what else to do.  
  
Questions raged through his mind. Why did she come here? Had she tried to warn him? Was that her intention? If she knew he was an assassin, then why risk herself? Did she not believe it to be true? He watched as the neighbors went back inside, the agents and soldiers gathered near their vehicles before they left after some last minute orders. The dark, Italian looking man heading toward the van White had just climbed into, opened the door.  
  
"I'll take you to my place. I live alone. You can see that he's never been there." He could hear Cassidy's voice, her pleading tones full of fear and dread. "I bought him a gift on his birthday. All the secretaries in the pool do that for their bosses. I was just being." the door closed and 682 didn't hear her response.  
  
Fortunately, he knew where she had lived. He had escorted her home on more than one occasion during brown outs or particularly dark days around the city. She lived just inside of sector 4 on the second floor of an unfinished apartment building. He checked the ground, watching the vehicles pull away. He would be there waiting for the team when they arrived.  
  
The apartment building in sector 4 had been part of a new project back before the pulse. After the pulse, the company running the operation had abandoned the project and squatters had moved in. X5-682 knew the procedure. The team would arrive first and secure the building, then White and his agents would bring the woman in and search her apartment. At least, that was their plan.  
  
682 had other plans. The first two vehicles pulled up and eight armed soldiers climbed out, heading for the entrances. Four entered the building. Four stayed outside. Two checked the perimeter, walking dangerously close to 682 as they passed the dumpster. He reached out for the second one as they passed, pulling up and back on his neck, dropping the body with a dull thud to the pavement. The first soldier turned, weapon raised, but could see only darkness as 682's large hand closed about his throat effectively shutting off his voice as he squeezed. He quickly lifted both bodies into the dumpster and jumped to the first window above the dumpster to gain entrance to the building.  
  
Inside, he moved quietly through an empty, sparsely furnished apartment toward the front door. He could hear the soldiers in the hall moving quickly room to room. 682 took a position next to the door as it slowly opened revealing the barrel of a gun. He grabbed the weapon and shoved back surprising the soldier and allowing for a quick pull, yanking the weapon from the bearer. He quickly jabbed the weapon back a second time, into the guards face, knocking the guard unconscious. He grabbed the soldier and yanked him into the apartment dumping the body on the floor.  
  
A shout from his partner alerted the rest of the soldiers as the second one burst through the door and into the end of a steel cobra. His body convulsed with the electrical charge before falling unconscious across his partner. 682 grabbed the second shock stick and prepared to launch his attack on the remaining soldiers if they appeared. They didn't appear, instead choosing to regroup with the remaining two soldiers downstairs and wait for reinforcements.  
  
This meant that White and his agents wouldn't bring the girl into the building until it was secure, instead parking away from the immediate area and waiting until the timing was right. 682 checked the hall, verifying that the soldiers were not waiting. He entered the hall with the two shock sticks and hit the stairs running, taking them four at a time as he moved for the roof to get a better view and find a way to another roof.  
  
Looking out over the low lying buildings revealed White's van parked two blocks away. Two men were standing outside the van. White was walking toward the scene, flanked by two more black vehicles carrying armed guards passing him on the way to secure the building. He smiled at the thought of the soldiers storming the apartment building as he took a running leap to the next building over, one alley width away. He landed with a duck and a roll coming up to a crouched position. A quick glance around the area revealed two hoverdrones entering the sector from opposite sides. He had time for one more jump, but would have to head down on the inside to avoid the drone cameras.  
  
Three minutes later, he was down the interior steps and at a side entrance near yet another alley between buildings. He could just barely hear the commands as White issued them. He approached the edge of the alley, tucked firmly into a pocket of shadow as a drone passed slowly by following the center line of the street in front of him. Across the street, the two men, a tall, lanky man in a brown suit and the dark Italian were talking quietly near the back of the van.  
  
682 looked around for some cover, but found none. He couldn't just cross the street, there was too much light, but he could circle around and come up on the other side of the block near the van and take them out with the shock sticks. He moved in the opposite direction, taking the alley at a hard run, circling the block near the perimeter fence and heading around toward the checkpoint before doubling back up the street near where the van had been parked. Three minutes later, he was again wrapped in shadow, this time just a few feet away from the van. Both men were oblivious to his presence.  
  
"What happens to the girl?" One of the men asked.  
  
"She'll be taken to headquarters and interrogated." The other answered. "Agent White wants her taken to a secure facility and said he'd handle it himself. He doesn't think she's telling the truth. He thinks there's more to her story."  
  
"Whatever that may be," the first one said. It was the last sentence he uttered that night. X5-682 shoved the two electrically charged Steel Cobra's viciously into each man's side letting the charge knock both men unconscious. When the agents slumped to the ground, he closed the extended stick's currents and shoved them in his belt as he turned around toward the back of the van and pulled open the door.  
  
"Mr. Sanazi!" Cassidy exclaimed. She was stunned, but excited to see him. 682 reached into the van, grabbed her hand and pulled her from the van. His strength got the better of her and she practically jumped into his arms as he lowered her to the ground. "They said you are an assassin."  
  
"I don't have time to explain, but something isn't right about any of this. You have to come with me."  
  
"Okay." She said. X5-682 stared at her for a full minute, breaking the eye contact only when he heard shouting from the apartment building. The bodies had been noticed and he only had a few seconds to get the girl out of harm's way. As he pulled her through the dark alley, he couldn't help wondering why she didn't seem to fear him. He was an assassin that had tried to kill a prominent Seattle official. She should fear him, but she seemed to be trying to run along behind him as if she wanted to go with him wherever he went.  
  
They ran for ten minutes ducking between buildings and crossing through them. 682 led her into the sewer and crossed over into another sector and Cassidy never once tried to get away from him. He led her into an abandoned building populated by drunks and junkies, climbing to the roof of the twelve story building in sector nine before he even considered slowing down.  
  
"I knew you weren't an assassin." She said. She was smiling.  
  
682 turned and looked at her. He had expected her to be worried and confused, but instead, she wasn't. She seemed at ease and appeared to believe that he was no threat to her. "What?" He asked.  
  
"They said you were an assassin. They said you tried to kill Mr. Devy and that old coot he had a meeting with tonight. I knew better. I knew you weren't an assassin, Mr. Sanazi."  
  
"Listen, Cassidy," he said the name, and for the first time in his short life outside of Manticore, he felt comfortable saying someone's name. "I don't know how exactly to tell you this, but I am an assassin. I was sent in to terminate Old Man Dalton. I've been working under deep cover for the last several months trying to get close to him." He watched for some reaction on the girls face. It was a blank stare he got from her.  
  
"I am a soldier, trained to do a job to the best of my ability, but something happened tonight. Something that I did not expect happened tonight. I was working my way into Devi's office when Eyes Only broadcast a report that my mission had been compromised. Sure enough, before the hack had ended, Dalton got a call from an Agent Ames White that I was in the building. I don't know how he found out, but for some reason they decided to take you when you showed up at my apartment."  
  
"I came to see you. I didn't believe that you were an assassin. I didn't think the rumors were true, but when Marilyn called me and told me what had happened at work. I had to see you." Cassidy explained. "I don't know why, but I didn't believe that it was true."  
  
"It is true." 682 said.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why what," he asked.  
  
"Why do you do it? Do they pay you a lot of money? Is it for the thrill?" She asked. Her eyes lit up when she asked the questions. She was completely enthralled by the man standing in front of her. "Is it for the excitement?"  
  
He looked at her, confused by her apparent misunderstanding of his lifestyle. She seemed to think that it was a fascinating and wonderful undertaking and that he lived a glamorous lifestyle.  
  
"It's not exciting." He said.  
  
"What do you mean? I've seen the movies. I've watched those old James Bond films. You guys have all the toys and can go anywhere. It's such a romantic life." She seemed wistful as she smiled, looking up into the sky. Suede looked at her, confused at what she perceived to be his life. "Have you been to Monte Carlo? It must be a beautiful place. I've never been outside of Seattle. I can't afford a pass to leave the city. What's Europe like?"  
  
"I've never been to Europe." 682 said.  
  
"You haven't?" She asked, seemingly stunned. "I would have thought you've traveled the world, been to all the exotic places and." she dropped the thought before she brought up the assassin thing again.  
  
"I've only been cleared for four missions. Assassinating Dalton was my first solo mission and I've completely screwed it up." He looked down at the slender woman. Her skin glowed a deep, reddish brown, like a smooth, creamy chocolate. Her eyes reflected the moon as she peered up at him. "What can you tell me about Eyes Only?"  
  
"Why? What's he got to do with anything?"  
  
"He's the reason I'm still alive right now. He warned me that my mission had been compromised."  
  
"How did he warn YOU?" She asked. "You mean he specifically warned you personally?"  
  
"No. He ran one of those fuzzy cable hacks of his. I was about to fulfill mission requirements when his hack came on TV." 682 looked at the girl. She was almost smiling.  
  
"Wow," she said. "This is amazing. Eyes Only never personally. wait a minute. I saw his hack tonight. It was playing on the TV at Crash."  
  
"You saw that?" 682 asked.  
  
"Everyone in the bar saw it. I was talking to a friend of mine when it came on. Everyone was listening in on the hack. It was interesting. Is X-5 your code name?"  
  
"Something like that." 682 said. He looked down at the street below. Things were getting out of control. First, his mission went sideways and then dropped into some dark hole somewhere. Then he found he had 72 hours to wait before he could go anywhere or do anything about getting home. Now, he's got to protect this woman that thinks his life is glamorous and exciting.  
  
"X-5." Cassidy mused. "It sounds so official. What does it mean?"  
  
X-5 682 looked at her. She stared back at him. He could see the trust in her eyes. She was living out a fantasy that he couldn't comprehend, but somehow, he understood her fascination with the moment. He was tumbling into the depths of his own personal abyss, a hunted man. a hunted assassin trying to lay low until he could return to Manticore and face up to his failure like a good soldier. Only, the good soldiers didn't fail.  
  
Right now, he wasn't sure what a good soldier was. 


End file.
